Not of this World
by JLANintendistSuperwholocked
Summary: Two Doctors, Sherlock, and the Winchesters have to stop an ancient evil from re-shaping the world in their image-and, perhaps more importantly, uncover the mystery of why they are all in the same Universe.
1. Chapter 1

This is another Superwholock thing, but there might be one or two characters from other franchises placed here and there, but I promise I will explain why everyone is all together in one place.

And I do not own any of the characters within this, all rights go to their respective companies.

Now, as a wise man once said, allons-y!

* * *

"Urgh" Dean Winchester muttered as he came to, trying to rub his forehead but he found himself quite thoroughly immobilized. He looked up to see a skinny woman with a single braid of platinum-blonde hair standing over him.

"Did I get really drunk last night or something?" he asked, frowning at her.

"Oh, sure Dean." His brother Sam said. "You got drunk and then frozen solid to a wall!"  
The two of them where attached to the wall by having their arms frozen directly to it.

"It's nothing personal," The woman said in a fierce, commanding voice. "My employers simply instructed me to use you as bait, so I got some Zoastrian shadow spirits to knock you out."

"Bait?" Dean asked. "Who the heck would come to rescue us?"

CRASH

A loud clatter pierced the scene as, across the dark cavernous room, a tall, Stetson-clad silhouette stood across the darkness from them.

"Sorry," A rich, deep British voice said, "Was that your altar? I knocked into it on the way in here."

"And you must be the Doctor." The woman said. "I've been expecting you."  
"Well, now that's odd." The Doctor responded. "Because I didn't expect to be coming here."

The figure stepped into the light, revealing a rich mess of curly-brown hair, a broad yet cheesy grin, and a long, colorful scarf.

"Would you like a Jelly Baby?" He inquired, proffering a bag of sweets to the mysterious woman.  
"What's this?" The woman asked. "A sad attempt at poisoning me?"  
"Just being polite, you know." The Doctor said, popping a gelatin confectionery into his mouth. "Wars have been started over less."  
"I'm sure." The woman said in a patronizing tone, before holding up her left hand to point at the Doctor. A gale of ice and slush flew towards the Doctor, who dove out of the way and into the darkness of the room.

Sam and Dean exchanged puzzled looks. If the Doctor really had smashed the altar, then the shadow spirits should be attacking their captor.

As if reading their mind, the Doctor's voice issued from the darkness, saying, "Do you want to know something?"  
The girl sent a blast of ice into the darkness towards the source of the Time Lord's voice, but evidently it missed its mark, for the Doctor continued, "Shadow spirits really love Jelly Babies."  
At these words, one of the candies flew through the air towards the cryogenic woman. She shrieked as she leaped away from the candy, and it was torn into nothingness before her eyes. She blindly fired a blast of ice in front of her, and then raced from the room.

"How-" Sam began.

"Those things are known as Vashta Nerada," The Doctor said, tossing jelly babies onto the ice; the Vashta Nerada cut through it and broke the Winchesters out without harming them. "All you have to do is know the right chemical and you can control them, and reinforce your bag so they don't rip it out of your hand. Well, don't just stand there!" the Doctor said, standing there nearly-motionless until he finished talking, "We've got to catch her before she destroys my dog!"  
"Dog?" Dean said incredulously. "Seriously?"  
Meanwhile, down the hallway, a chipper mechanical voice proclaimed "Halt!" To the fleeing woman. She saw a single rectangle of red light peer out at her from a position low to the floor. She instinctively blasted the source of the light with ice, but the source of the light anticipated her move and sent a laser at her left hand as she was firing. The impact caused her to jerk her hand away in pain, and she instinctively rolled to the side, into an adjacent room. She spun into the corner, and shot a sheet of ice onto the floor. When her pursuer entered after her, it spun out on the ice. The girl ran out of the room and back into the hallway.

Behind her, Dean raised his gun, pointing it at her back.

"Don't." The Doctor said calmly, but he hastily batted Dean's gun down. It discharged, and sent a bullet flying towards the retreating figure. The supersonic slug of lead grazed the side of her right leg, destroying more of her jeans than her flesh, but a substantial amount of blood splattered on the wall nonetheless. The girl fell, and hastily held her right hand over her leg, and used a sheet of ice to bandage her wound. She popped up, and raced through the door at the end of the hallway, ducking underneath a blow from a heavy pipe, courtesy of Sam. He bolted after her, hurling the pipe at her back like a javelin. She simply spun around and blasted the pipe at the apex of its trajectory; the pipe was deflected off to the side, and landed on the floor with a clatter. The girl raced to a stairway, and leapt deftly onto the railway, which froze under her feet in such a way that it was wide enough for her to slide on. Whilst doing so, she froze the steps next to her, creating an icy slide that she sealed up on the end, so it formed a one-way trip to the wall.

"Come on, you two!" The doctor said, taking off his scarf as he ran towards the window, flinging it open the moment he reached it. The Winchesters followed curiously. The Time Lord shoved his hat onto Sam's head, and handed Dean one end of his scarf, saying, "Hold this very, very tightly." He then repelled out the window, using his scarf to break his fall before dropping the remaining distance to the ground. He ran around the building.

"You sure it's the same guy?" Sam asked Dean seriously, removing the Stetson. "The same Doctor-?"

Meanwhile, the fleeing girl raced through the empty streets, struggling to keep her speed up and her footsteps quiet. She turned around another ubiquitous corner-

-and came face-to-face with a tall wooden blue box. The words _Police Public Call Box _leered out at her like the flash of a handgun down a dark alleyway.

"I'm not going to hurt you." The Doctor said, holding the Jelly Babies in his hand. "I just want to talk."  
"That's good, because I've got something I need to tell you, Doctor." The girl said. "My name is Elsa, and everything around you is impossible."  
She slammed her right foot into the ground, and icy spikes shot up at the Doctor, who leapt backwards out of the way. Elsa spun around and ran towards the TARDIS, icy steps freezing into existence under her as she ran, so that she raced right over the Type 40 time capsule and kept on running.

The Doctor stared after her in bewilderment.

* * *

Yes, I did research, and yes, Elsa is left-handed, so I portrayed her as such.

Also, the phrase "Gelatin confectionery" is actually what Spock called the Jelly Babies in the Star Trek/Doctor who crossover Assimilation2

And, as I'm sure you've never heard any other fictioner say if you hang around this site, please review because it really helps me improve my writing. I also appolizige for the relative brevity of this chapter, the next one should be much longer.


	2. Chapter 2

And for those people who aren't quite as into classic who...Lethbridge-Stewart is the Brigadier, one of the founders of UNIT, Kate Stewart's father, and one of the Doctor's best friends.

* * *

"Sherlock Holmes to see Lethbridge-Stewart," the tall, trench coated man said, flashing an official ID at the lady at the UNIT reception desk.

"Straight through the doors on the end, third door on your left," the receptionist said in a bored voice. Sherlock walked off without another word.

He hadn't any idea when he took this case how interesting it would be. Working for the top-secret government organization known as Torchwood was a new experience, even for him. When they wanted him to track down this supposed "alien", he thought it was a joke, at first. Perhaps Torchwood was simply attempting to deter him from another case that they thought he might take on in the near future. However, he simply could not deny the amount of evidence littered across the internet: photos that where clearly not photoshopped, evidence that was clearly not faked. All this was scattered across the entire history of the Earth if one simply knew where to look. This job could still be a very clever governmental ruse, but there was one type of evidence that could not be denied: firsthand experience. If he could talk to someone who knew this…Doctor, then he would be able to determine whether or not he was real.

He entered into the office to see the man, a dignified-looking grey-haired man who was diligently writing some paper or another.

"Mister Holmes, I presume," Lethbridge-Stewart said, looking up at Sherlock.

"Correct," the consulting detective said, filling the seat across from the elderly man. "I assume you know why I'm here?"  
"I know that you're hunting the Doctor," Lethbridge-Stewart said. "I suppose it was only a matter of time."  
Sherlock raised an eyebrow, and the ex-brigadier elaborated: "I did a simple background check on the Doctor when I took over the position of Brigadier all those years ago. I know that he was banished from the country and that Torchwood is hunting him."  
"Then why haven't you done your duty and assisted the investigation?" the resident of Baker Street asked.

Lethbridge-Stewart leaned in. "Because he's a good man."

"And you're going to allow a criminal to escape because you believe him to be a good man?" Sherlock responded. "Everyone at Torchwood believes that he's a menace. An alien who will come at the head of an invading army of little green men to destroy the planet."  
At that moment, a gangly man in a tweed jacket, a crimson bow tie, and a matching beret entered into the office behind a pile of paperwork, which he slammed onto Lethbridge-Stewart's desk.  
"There you go!" He said, plopping his beret onto the UNIT founder, "Work done, all the I's are dotted and the T's are crossed, everything is alphabetized and numberatized and cross-indexed and it's all fab."  
"Good gracious, Mr. Smith." Lethrbridge-Stewart said, examining the huge pile of work. "You did all this in the amount of time I gave you?"  
"And had a nice chat with that Osgood Lady. She sounds cool enough to get a promotion." He turned to Sherlock. "And you must be Mr. Holmes. I knew another guy named Holmes once. He had a striking resemblance to Tony Stark."

"If you wouldn't mind waiting outside for a bit, Mr. Smith," Lethbridge-Stewart said somewhat wearily, "I would just like to finish my conversation with Mr. Holmes before you can take him to the location we discussed."

"Right-o!" The man turned and left from the room, his enthusiasm not dampened in the slightest after being kicked out.

"So, what do you think of the Doctor?" the founder of UNIT asked.

"I think he's a very elaborate fake," Sherlock said without emotion. "Some kind of hoax someone is pulling on me in order to distract me from something important."  
Lethbridge-Stewart snorted. "Sometimes I wish he had been a hoax. Sometimes I fool myself into thinking that it had all been a dream: shop window dummies coming to life and rolling pepper-pots attacking peace conferences and the entire UNIT headquarters transported to some strange alien planet in the middle of nowhere…but it all happened, Mr. Holmes, I can assure you, and the Doctor isn't a threat. On the contrary, he's a trusted ally and a friend. Without him none of us would be here today, I can assure you."  
Sherlock couldn't believe the man was real. Obviously, Torchwood was doing quite the good job if this was a hoax, the poor man believed every single word of what he was saying. On the other hand, if this wasn't a hoax…

"But I can see that my testimony alone cannot persuade you." Lethbridge-Stewart said. "Perhaps talking to the Doctor in person will help ease your remaining doubts. Mr. Smith will take you to talk to him now."  
"Thank you," Sherlock said, politely rising and leaving from the room.

After the helm of Sherlock's cloak had vanished from the room, Lethbridge-Stewart added fondly, "And it's nice to see you again, Sherlock Holmes."  
"Love the scarf," Mr. Smith added as he led Sherlock down the hallway.

"Thank you," Sherlock said without gratitude. "Your bow tie is quite charming. I hate it when people go out of their way to make their outfits drab and dreary."  
_Fascinating, _the consulting detective thought as he watched the man blather on about how cool his bow tie was. _He seems to be beaming with happiness over the fact that I like his bow tie…I assumed when he complimented my scarf that he was simply attempting to get on my good side, but he wouldn't blabber on like this unless he's either an incompetent member of UNIT staff or just overly excitable…perhaps both…or I'm looking for signs of deceit that are not there…_

"Right then!" Mr. Smith said, leading Sherlock into a deserted parking lot at the back of the UNIT headquarters, "I want you to analyze that for me." He pointed to an ordinary, but out of place, blue police box at the edge of the parking lot. "If you do, I swear I'll let you talk to the Doctor."

_A test,_ Sherlock mused, _to see if I am who I say I am, perhaps, or maybe he's going to attempt to convince me that that box is bigger on the inside._ Sherlock approached the box and began to touch it, examining it in an attempt to figure out what Mr. Smith wanted him to uncover.

_This hoax theory looks very dim at this point._ He thought, as he turned back to Mr. Smith, who had pulled out some kind of Nintendo handheld system and was playing away on it.

"Well?" He said, putting away his game.

"It's interesting." Sherlock said. "Not only is it new, and I am quite certain that police boxes have not been constructed in quite some time. It is also apparently not attached to the ground. The box is much heavier than it should be, given the material and volume, and the lock is designed to incinerate anything used to pick it."

Mr. Smith burst into a grin, from ear to ear. "Noticed that, did you? Well, then, why don't you analyze _this_?"  
He snapped his fingers, and the doors to the box slammed open of their own accord. Glistening golden light shone out of it.

"A simple remote control," Sherlock said, turning to the other man.

"Not quite," He corrected excitedly. "Take a closer look."  
Sherlock curiously approached the police box. Whoever had placed the holographic image inside of the police box had done a great job. It did look as though there was depth to the interior beyond the actual volume of the box…

It was when he was within two yards of the police box that he began to suspect more than just an image - perhaps some hyper-advanced holographic projector?

It was when he actually crossed the threshold that his doubts began to fade away. By simply reaching out his arm, he could confirm that there was no wall next to him, and that ruled out most logical explanations.

"When you eliminate all logical explanations," Sherlock said to himself, in a voice that was as awestruck as it was going to get, "Whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth."  
The doors closed behind him, and Sherlock turned around to face Mr. Smith.

"You're the Doctor," Sherlock accused, "Aren't you? And this is the TARDIS, your time travel machine?"  
The Doctor mimed shooting him with finger guns, grinning like a kid in a candy store. "Spot-on, Mr. Holmes." He raced up to the TARDIS console, and began to throw levers. "Just a wanderer, really. Someone who wants to explore all of time and space." He spun around to look at the detective. "I've met you before, Sherlock."  
"At a previous point in time?" Sherlock asked, approaching the TARDIS console. At this point, he recognized that all of his deductions were pointless until he re-determined the line between fact and fiction.

"Many previous points in time." The Time Lord elaborated, working at the console like a man possessed. "And, actually" he turned again to face Sherlock, and walked up to him. "I need your help. It's very urgent."  
"But we're in a time machine," Sherlock pointed out dryly. "Surely urgency is a matter of relativity? You can come back to the split-second you left."  
"It's not necessarily that simple," The Time Lord explained, his voice as expressive as the detective's was shy. "The TARDIS is alive, and therefore it runs into human error every now-and-then. Sometimes I turn up in places and times I don't want to go."  
"So you're saying that I could end up hundreds of years form where I started?" Sherlock asked.

"I can get you back, I promise," The Doctor said, before turning back to the TARDIS console. "But first-"  
"You're a bad liar, Doctor," Sherlock said, joining him at the TARDIS console. "Particularly for someone as old as you."  
"How did you know?" The Predator said, turning to him, then added, "Never mind, it was probably the eyes. Lots of people comment on the eyes."  
"And some deductions I made about you based on all the clues you left for me." Sherlock said. "You did a terrible job of covering your tracks."  
"I did cover my tracks!" The Doctor said incredulously. "It took me a whole year in order to get it done, and then I travel to some off-kilter Universe, and now I'm getting interrogated by someone with a scarf that is far too short. No thank you!" He began to flip more levers.  
"Then how does it work?" Sherlock asked, somewhat sickened with himself. He despised people who just babbled out questions like a leaky faucet, but he had to know more about this world he had suddenly been thrust into, and the Doctor seemed to be willing enough to give him answers. "And these human devices you have on your ship-" He indicated the gramophone and the typewriter that where part of the TARDIS console. "Are they here because aliens invented them and you integrated them into our time stream, or did you adapt them from humanity?"  
"Well, I'm pretty sure they were human-invented," The Doctor said, pausing to ponder this for a moment before continuing, "But I think you can deduce why I would have them on here."  
Sherlock watched as the Time Lord threw more levers.  
"Because you're old," Sherlock said, a note of awe entering his voice for the second time that day. "Impossibly old. And you've lost so much…so you cover it all up by acting like you're a child."  
"And I'm going to lose even more if you don't help me," The Doctor said urgently. "If you need proof that I'm a time traveler-"  
"I don't waste my time in frivolous things, Doctor," Sherlock said. "I'm sure you know that much by now."  
"Then we'll go ahead and pop right to our destination," The Gallifreyan said, flicking a few more levers and pulling down a larger one. At once, a wheezing, groaning, lurching noise filled the TARDIS, and it began to lift off.

"That noise…" Sherlock said.  
"You've heard it before?" The Doctor said, puzzled.  
"It was mentioned in LINDA's notes." Sherlock elaborated. "I reviewed their files."  
"Right." The Doctor said, grinning. "I missed being around you."  
Sherlock raised an eyebrow. "Really?"  
"Really." The Doctor said. "It's nice having someone who can actually keep up with everything that I say. We should be landing right about-" The TARDIS groaned again as the floor of the dimensionally transcendental ship lurched underneath the pair of them.

"Sorry," The Doctor said apologetically, springing from the TARDIS console and heading towards the door, "Not quite used to this Universe yet, I think." He then led the way out of the TARDIS and into a military-looking sickbay, which was nearly-deserted.

"Over here," The Doctor said, leading the way to a bed in the back of the room.

The woman lying on the table was distinctly odd-looking. She was quite lithe, with a veritable cape of dirty blonde hair, witch cascaded around her cot like a long sheet around her, reaching from her head to her toes. Her outfit was quite bizarre-she had radish earrings, a necklace of bottle corks, and a very garish and modest dress that had dozens of different symbols etched into it in different colors of what appeared to be sequins.

_Fascinating, _Sherlock mused. _Definitely superstitious, or perhaps simply seeking attention._ Out loud, after looking at the glass of water sitting next to a fez he said, "Marvelous place for a base, eh, Doctor?"

The Doctor burst out laughing. "You did it again, Holmes! I love not having to explain things for a change." He grinned, but then the girl stirred in her sleep, and his face fell as he looked at her.

"You really do care for her." Sherlock said, watching his fellow. "Is she one of those humans you pick up every so often?"  
The Doctor frowned at Sherlock. "I don't go around having hanky pankies with all of them, you know. I just…need someone to ease my loneliness."  
"Surely there are others like you-?"  
The Oncoming Storm silenced him with a haunting look.

"But this one's different." Sherlock said, gesturing to her. "The way you looked at her...perhaps a wife or a daughter-?"  
At that moment, the Doctor was saved form answering when the doors burst open. Osgood, Kate Stewart, and Martha Jones entered into the room.

The Doctor's jaw dropped for a moment, then he closed it. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised."  
"And whatever do you mean by that, Doctor?" Kate said, as the three of them stood in front of him. "And who's this?"  
"It's…Timey wimey." The Doctor said.  
"Timey what?" Sherlock asked. "You didn't seriously just-"  
"This is Sherlock Holmes." The Doctor said, jerking his thumb at him. He paused for a moment, analyzing their reactions.

"Sherlock Holmes?" he added. "None of you have heard of him?"  
"He's a detective in Britain, I believe, I read the file on him." Kate said. "And he's been sighted with you often before."  
"And no one here thinks that he should be wearing a tweed jacket and a funny little hat?" The Doctor pressed.

"Well….Maybe." Martha admitted. "It's like…that version of him is under a perception filter and I can't hang onto him."

"Precisely." The Doctor said. "That means that you haven't been completely synced in yet, that's good…"  
"Synced in to what?" Sherlock asked.

"You know the concept of parallel worlds, don't you?"

"Of course," Holmes said tentatively, "What are you getting at?"  
"It's not always like you see on TV," The Doctor said, "Where realities are all the same, except for one thing's different or everything is opposite. There are worlds that have nothing in common and worlds that have some things in common. There are countless Universes all swimming around out there-"  
"Swimming?" Sherlock asked.

"Well, floating." The Doctor elaborated.

"Is this really important?" Kate asked. "We've got stuff we need for you to look into-"  
"It's much more important, because none of this should be happening." The Doctor said. ""Occasionally, dimensions interact, I.E. a few people might be able to cross from one to the other on occasion, I might be able to fly the TARDIS into a few nearby connected dimensions, but that's it. But then there was a war. The-"

"Last Great Time War." Martha said in a bored sort of voice. When everyone looked at her, she said, "He talks about it. A lot."  
"You would talk about it a lot, too, if you had been there." The Doctor said, bristling, then continued, "My race, the Time Lords-"  
"Time Lords?" Sherlock asked in a flat tone. "Is that the name of their race or just a title?"  
"Is everyone going to interrupt me?" The Doctor asked, disgusted. "This will make a lot more sense if I could concentrate! Anyway, the Time Lords where attacked by an army of ready-made soldiers. The enemy was already 100% armed and dangerous, and the Time Lords had to take time, they had to mobilize. So they went out and found every single ally they could, from across every dimension, except their own, I made sure of that, so you three-" He pointed at Kate, Osgood, and Martha, "Weren't involved, but you-" He pointed at Sherlock, "Were."  
"Then why don't I remember it?" Sherlock asked.

"Interruptions!" The Doctor protested. "They didn't just summon these heroes to the war; how many of them would have protested like mad at becoming soldiers? So the Time Lords used an overly-complicated technique in order to get them to come; they sort of just tore hunks of space itself out of all of these Universes. See, in most cases, these Universes would right themselves automatically. The space would regenerate automatically re-create the hero that it was missing, and _voila! _You've got yourself a small army without poking holes in reality. In most cases. A few Universes didn't regenerate the hero, and that lead to more problems - in any event, we had this huge army of warriors from all across space at one point. Then, the war ended, and-" He paused, trying to gather his thoughts, still absentmindedly gesturing with his hands, "-everyone died, except for me, and I thought that all of the heroes were destroyed too, but I suppose they slipped out, and somehow or other the bubble of space from their original Universes was still attached to them. These bubbles regenerated pieces of different Universes and BAM, new Universe, completely new timestream somehow. Events are happening that should never have happened, people are meeting who shouldn't-for example, Kate and I shouldn't have met yet, or at least not with me in this body. Basically, this Universe contains grafted pieces from dozens upon dozens of different worlds. Only I have no idea how you three-" He gestured to Martha, Kate, and Osgood, "Are here, and how my TARDIS got into this dimension in the first place or why it's still working because it needs to be synced to the Time Vortex which I left behind, and-"  
"Okay, we get it." Martha said, hastily interrupting the Time Lord. "There's a long, complicated case you're working on. So why were you asking us if we recognized Sherlock if he's from some parallel world?"  
"Because often times parallel worlds get represented in different ways in other worlds," The Doctor said, in a let's-get-this-over-with-quickly tone of voice "Usually with more sex and drinking than they do in their own world. And you should be familiar with an alternate version of him because that was the one that was more well-known in our Universe. Right, then, Miss Stewart, what is it that's so urgent?"

"A series of psychic fits." She said, "All across the US. We think that some kind of force is stirring."

"A demonic force?" Sherlock asked.

"We think so, but the signs are different." Kate said. "All the hunters we have working for us are baffled-"

"You shouldn't have hunters in UNIT." The Doctor said in a correcting tone.

"Why is that surprising?" Sherlock said. "Whenever hunters can get hired by the government, they are."  
"Well, there is one thing that doesn't change in alternate dimensions." The Doctor said. "People. Good guys are always good guys, and that's fixed. So if we're going to fight some kind of demon, then we want the best."

"We want the Winchesters." Sherlock finished.

* * *

The putt-putt of a motorcycle effused through the Nebraskan night as a lone figure drove into the darkness. She was wearing a very odd outfit-a raggedy tank top that had a hood sewn onto it, and matching dark jeans. She had a muscular yet lean build, and her eyes darted across the road, as if she expected anything to leap out at her at any movement.

She pulled up to a roadhouse at a crossroads and parked her motorcycle, checking her person to make sure her weapons were still there before entering the establishment.

"We're closed for the night-" The blonde girl who was cleaning the counter said, before turning around and seeing the figure entering into the house. "_Anna!_" She explained.

"Jo." The black-clad figure said grimly, removing her hood to reveal her crimson hair, "I need you to help me find my sister…"

* * *

Sorry. That was a lot of talking. The next chapter will have more action.


	3. Chapter 3

The half-full moon lent its lunar illumination to to barren and drab southwestern American desert as a lonely black 1967 Chevy Impala made it's way steadfastly down the road. Dean sat in the driver's seat, listening to the song Renegade by Styx. Sam was in the passenger seat, staring idly out the window, and the Fourth Doctor was in the back seat, performing tricks with a yo-yo

"You know, you really should give this car some color." The Doctor babbled, creating a web out of the yo-yo string as he did so. "I mean, this car doesn't have much character in black-"

"Yeah, well there's such a thing as too much character, too," Dean snapped. "I don't want to look like some idiot driving a rainbow-colored car or whatever the hell else you want me to have."  
"I never said it had to be rainbow." The Doctor said reproachfully.

"Look, you need to do some explaining." Sam said in a businesslike tone. "How are you the Doctor? Is it some kind of title that gets carried on?"

"I tend to change bodies every so often." The Doctor grinned. "It's really quite natural for someone like me. But I can't control what comes out. That's why the ears are the way they are."  
"Right." Dean said.  
"So, do you remember us?" Sam asked.  
"Of course I do!" The Doctor said. "Sam, you just wanted to be a normal kid, without all of the hunting nonsense, watching telly and playing football - er, soccer to you. Dean, all you wanted was to earn the approval of your father, but he was lavishing much of it on Sam. There. Now, do you believe me?"

Sam and Dean glanced at each other.

"Stranger things have happened to us." Sam stated.

"And you'd have to have quite the reputation to have that freaky ice chick come hunt you down." Dean said, "Especially wearing that ridiculous scarf."

"Rubbish!" The Doctor exclaimed. "Of all the absurd - there are cultures that put this scarf on their door frames to fool evil spirits into thinking that I'm there! And-"

A bullet shattered the Doctor's sentence as it flew through the Impala and took out both windshields on its way. All three hunters ducked; Dean swerved and sword, clicking off his lights as he did so, so that darkness swallowed up the '67 Chevrolet.

The Doctor popped up, peering over the back seat, holding up the Sonic Screwdriver like a particularly clever toy he was showing to a friend. "Three cars are on your tail. You need to get off the road."  
Thankfully, they where smack dab in the middle of nowhere in the American southwestern desert. Dean veered off, straight into the desert.

Meanwhile, the Eleventh Doctor and Sherlock approached the scene in the TARDIS. Sherlock, who had picked up on how to fly the TARDIS remarkably fast, was assisting the Doctor in flying the Type 40. The Doctor himself was currently on the phone, talking to the leader of the cars chasing the Impala.

"This is the Doctor speaking," The Time Lord said. "You need to stop chasing the Winchesters, I need to bring them in on a case."

"Do you have any idea what Sam is?" The leader responded.

"He's a very good friend of mine. And an invaluable ally."

"He's a time bomb. He's a weapon of Hell itself, and he is not your friend, he's an enemy of humanity."

"The woman I trust more than anyone in the Universe tried to kill me the first time she met me. As an old friend of mine once said, the circumstances of one's birth are irrelevant; it's what you do with the gift of life that matters. Stand down."  
"Like hell I will," The voice responded.

The Doctor quickly whipped out his Sonic, and buzzed the radio. The three pursuing cars spun out, losing sight of the Impala.

"That won't last long," Sherlock observed. "They'll be oriented again in about ten seconds."

The Eleventh Doctor's mouth formed a perfect O as he saw the silhouette in the back of the Impala.

A moment later, light flashed across the desert as the bulb on top of the police box disguise of the TARDIS blazed into being and moved off in the opposite direction of both the time capsule itself and the Impala. As this occurred, the TARDIS signature wheezing, groaning sound echoed across the landscape.

The Fourth Doctor's eyes widened when he heard it.

"I've heard that sound before," Sam said, frowning.

"It's the sound of a TARDIS – a time travel machine," He elaborated, glancing over his shoulder at Sam and Dean. "But it can't be mine, the trip into this dimension put a lot of strain on it, it's not ready to fly yet. It must be another Time Lord's, and they're probably not a friend of our's, judging on past experiences. Be on your guard-their TARDIS could look like anything."

"Great." Dean said dully. "Now we've got two batches of who-knows-what on our tail.

"Are those cars still following us?" Sam asked.

The Doctor moved to get his Sonic out, but a gunshot caused them all to duck.

"Just one," The Doctor said, as more gunshots caused them all to duck. "Pull over."

"What?" Dean asked, "Are you crazy?"

"Trust me." The Eternity-walker responded. "I _am_ the Doctor."

Dean glanced over at Sam, who nodded. He stopped the car.

It was a moment before their pursuer realized that Dean had stopped. The mysterious man hastily swerved his car in order to avoid hitting the Impala, and came to a stop with his headlights illuminating the Impala. It was them that he noticed the tall, Stetson-clad figure of the Doctor standing in front of the car with his hands raised and a big grin on his face.

"Hello!" he said jovially, as the driver of the other car, a muscled African-American man, got out and pointed at gun at the wanderer. "Was that you driving behind us just now? You've got a very nice truck, did you know?"

"Are you an idiot?" The other man shot at him. "I've got a gun pointed at your face! Now, where'd Sam and Dean go?"

"Oh, they're in the car." The Doctor said, reaching his hand into his pocket. The other man brandished his gun forwards, but he could clearly see the tweed bag that the Time Lord was holding. "Would you like a Jelly Baby?"

"No…" The other man said, as the Doctor popped one into his mouth.

Without taking his aim off of the time traveler, the second man crept closer – slowly at first, and then faster as he approached the Impala. When he got in range, the Time Lord abruptly threw his hat onto his adversary's face. The man fired, but the Doctor deftly leapt to the side, hurling his scarf in the opposite direction as he did so. The scarf wrapped around the second man's legs, and the Doctor tripped him so that he fell to the ground, faceplanting on the edge of the Impala and passing out.

"Damn," Dean said, walking around to see the scene.

"That's Gordon." Sam observed.

"What's he doing working for the government?" Dean inquired, noticing his uniform.

Abruptly, someone ran behind the Doctor and ruffled his hair vigorously. He spun around.

"Sorry," A gangly man wearing tweed and a bow tie said, retrieving the Doctor's hat from Gordon and plopping it on his floppy brown hair, "I always wanted to do that from the outside."

The Doctor stared at his future self for a moment, snatching back his hat without taking his eyes off the bow tied man.

"No!" The Doctor exclaimed.

"Do you two know each other?" Sam asked softly, his hand inside his jacket, resting on his gun.

"Is he working for the government?" Dean asked, his pose nearly-identical to Sam's.

"I'm really going to have _that_ chin someday?" The Doctor asked.

"Hey!" The tweeded man said. "I endured those ears."

Abruptly two more UNIT cars drove up, and men poured out, surrounding them and pointing guns at the four travellers.

"Would you two stop acting like schoolchildren?" Dean hissed as he and Sam raised his hands. "We need to focus"

"Well, Doctor," Four said, leaning on Eleven and tossing his scarf over his future's shoulder, "We seem to be in quite the predicament."

"On your knees!" One of the solders shouted.

Sam and Dean kneeled, but the Doctors remained standing, and Eleven said, "I am not sitting on his lap."  
"Go on then!" Four said, walking towards the edge of the circle, approaching one of the soldiers so that his gun was touching Four's chest.

"Aren't you supposed to shoot us?" Eleven inquired, poking one of the solders in the chest.

"But you won't," Four added.

"Because you've heard the stories," Eleven said, turning to one of the other soldiers. "They endure, even out here."

"If the Zygons-" four began.

"The Sycorax-" Eleven continued, and the two went back and forwards like a tennis match,

"The Daemons-"

"The Silurians-"

"The Autons-"

"The Daleks-"

"And a legion of dinosaurs-"

"Failed to stop me-"

'Then what in the Universe makes you think you can?" The two finished together.

The soldiers stared at each other hesitantly.

"I sure hope that's not the entire plan," Four hissed at the older Time Lord.

"The second part will be right about..." Eleven looked at the watch on the inside of his wrist, "now."

He pulled his past self closer to Sam, Dean, and the Impala, as a perfect square appeared, etched into the sand. Wind pushed out of it, blasting all the soldiers to the ground.

"How did you-?" Dean demanded, standing up.

"Increased the spacebox of the TARDIS a bit," Eleven said. "She's going to be tired, we've tried a lot of tricks today – well, Winchesters, it's time for you too see my home."

Sam and Dean had to blink as the glistening interior of the TARDIS appeared around them, and the light dazed them for a moment.

"Oh, you've redecorated!" Four exclaimed.

Eleven, who had raced to the TARDIS console to assist Sherlock, looked up at his past self expectantly.

"It's quite charming!" Four said, before approaching the console and helping his future self and the consulting detective fly the ship.

"It's nice to see you boys again," Sherlock said, looking at the Winchesters.

"Sherlock Holmes?" Dean said, shocked.

"You know each other already?" Four asked.

"We met when our dad was staying in Gotham." Dean elaborated. "Now, what the heck is going on here? Who is this guy?"

"I said that I change bodies," Four said. "He's one of my future selves."  
"I'm a Time Traveler." Eleven said, as he raced around the TARDIS console. "Sometimes - not often, because this isn't supposed to be happening at all – sometimes I meet myself. So, scarf boy, what are you doing here? Do you have any idea where you are right now?"

Sherlock, Eleven, and Four stepped away from the controls at that moment, as the TARDIS achieved stable flight; the control column bobbed up and down in a very contented sort of way.  
"Well, I was planning on going to Techadon In order to get K-9's accuracy circuit upgraded," Four said, "and I ended up here instead. I presume that the Time Lords want us to go do something-"

"That's not likely," Eleven said nervously, particularly since Sam, Dean, and Sherlock had noticed has hesitancy. "I don't think it's possible that your TARDIS just _happened _to randomly materialize here. Something pulled your TARDIS into this dimension."  
"Whatever it was that caused the rest of us to meet in the first place," Sherlock said flatly.

"We need to compare notes," The Eleventh Doctor said.


	4. Chapter 4

VWORP VWORP VWORP

The TARDIS re-materialized back into the sickbay. Eleven peered out of the Type 40, saw his companion, and grinned.

"Good," He said, walking over to her and examining her shoes,

which she was wearing in bed-with the Sonic. "You haven't been going anywhere."

"You wouldn't happen to have her number," Dean said, walking up to the Doctor, "Would you?"

"Um, no." The Doctor said, glancing at him and then turning back to his companion, before realizing what he meant and turning back to him with a much more forceful "No!"

"Where was the stuff you wanted to show us?" Sam asked hastily, attempting to hijack the conversation before it proceeded any further.

"It'd be down the hall a bit." Eleven said. "Come along Winchesters."  
He lead them, Sherlock, and his past self into another hallway, which consisted of lots of polished metal corridors.

"So, where exactly are we?" Sam asked.

"Currently, it's the UNIT headquarters." Eleven answered, "Other than that, it's a bit classified…"

They entered through an automatic door, to find a busy-looking meeting room, despite it's relative vacancy. The walls and the long table in the room both had computer screens built into them. The table was displaying a map of the United States, and the panels on the walls had long, scrolling lines of text. Sitting around the table where Kate Stewart, Osgood, Gordon, and a middle-aged, muscular man with an eye patch and brown hair that was graying at the temples.

Gordon glared at them as they entered, and shot a disdainful look at Kate, who acted as though she didn't notice.

"We've had six more cases since you've been gone." Kate said, as the five took their seats around the table.

"Still following the same pattern?" Eleven asked.

"Correct." Kate said. "Almost everyone with recorded psychic powers has collapsed into the same muttering fit that your friend has."  
"Except me, for some reason." Sam pointed out.

"Any more clues?" Sherlock asked.

"Nothing," Kate said, stressed, "None of your omens, no signs, not even anything out of the ordinary, apart from the trances. We're stretched a bit thin at the moment, though, so we might have missed something."  
"But they're still going from east to west," Eleven said, as everyone stared at the data as if expecting it to suddenly make sense, "Towards the pacific."  
"Nice scarf," Four said, sitting next to Osgood.

"You gave it to me, actually." Osgood said. "Remember?"  
"Oh, that's right!" Four said. "You where that little girl I saved from the Zygons - would you like a jelly baby?"

Osgood gasped.

"Inhaler!" Kate snapped.

Osgood pulled out her inhaler and gasped on it, before taking a gelatin confectionery.

"Then I guess we're going to have to do a lot of research." Dean said in a resigned tone of voice.

"That's what we've been doing." Gordon said irritably. "Trouble is, there haven't been any of the usual signs of any sort of monster we've dealt with before."  
"Sherlock?" Eleven asked. "I know this is new to you, but what do you make of this?"  
"We need to prioritize finding the cause of these…episodes." He said. "What can we rule out?"

"Nothing." Gordon said. "Didn't I just tell you that? We've never seen anything like this."

Sherlock snorted. "If you weren't so baffled, you might notice everything you've missed. Look at the centers of this epidemic. There are the most cases in places like Gotham and Belle Rev." He looked up at the table. "All of the major centers of it are in prisons. That would explain why Sam remains unaffected-his morals seem to make him more-or-less immune"  
"But what about my companion?" Eleven asked in a contradictory tone of voice. "She's one of the most innocent people I've ever met."  
"She's the norm, not the exception." Kate said. "It's normal for them to go after people with psychic powers. It's the prisons that's baffling."

"Maybe it can increase the psychic abilities of its victims," Sam guessed, "That would explain the prisons."  
"And the number of victims." Dean said. "There's an awfully lot of them."

The conversation continued for a moment, but Sherlock noticed that Eleven was staring at the table, darkness etched into his face.

"It can't be." Eleven said. "They burned. I burned them."

"Doctor?" Sherlock asked.

"Your wrists!" Eleven said, his mood changing from a man depressed to a man possessed, hastily pulling back his sleeves and turning his arms inside up. "Everyone show me your wrists!"

"What?" Gordon said.  
"I think I know what we're fighting." Eleven said, "And when it possesses people, it leaves a mark on the person's wrist! Now _show me your wrists!_"

Everyone followed Eleven's lead and turned their wrists up.

"Good." Eleven said, seeing that everyone' wrists where unmarked, nervously ruffling his hair and getting up. "Can we access all the data on the ship from here?"

"Yes." Kate said. "What are you-?"  
"You can't help me with this right now" Eleven said, sonicking one of the wall-panels and observing the data that popped up. "Just...keep talking among yourself, okay?"

The group looked away from him and stared at each other for a while.

"Great." Dean said. "What are we supposed to do in the meantime?"  
"Determine our limits." Sherlock suggested.

"What?" Sam asked.

Sherlock looked across the table at the man with the eye patch. "I've read up about you, Director Fury."  
Four looked from Sherlock to Fury for a moment, confused, but then he realized.

"Right." He said. "You're only Samuel L. Jackson in some worlds."  
Director Fury raised an eyebrow at him.

"If I could finish," Sherlock said irritably, before continuing, "You locked the leader of Hydra inside of a nuclear core and sank their base, and I've seen the number of enemy civilians that have been caught in your crossfire."  
Fury leaned in. "What exactly are you suggesting, Mr. Holmes?"  
"I'm suggesting that if you're using methods like that, we'll get the Doctor to take us right back to where we belong."  
"Great." Gordon said. "You're not one of those self-righteous sons of *** like those two, are you?" He indicated the Winchesters.

"Just because we don't go around slaughtering innocents doesn't mean we're crazy." Dean said.

"Look, I'm going to do whatever it takes to save the Earth." Fury said. "If that means I have to kill civilians, then I'm sorry, but I'm only doing what I think is right. It's how I sleep at night."  
"There are other ways," Sherlock said. "You need to ensure that every other method fails before you resort to murder, and you haven't always been good at that."  
"I don't see what the hell his past mistakes have to do with this investigation!" Gordon said.  
"Then you clearly aren't looking far enough past the edge of your nose," Sherlock said, "There are psychic events all across the country, but use your head. According to your own research, as you get farther west, the psychic events become more intense."

"And how did you come to that 'brilliant' deduction?" Gordon said sarcastically. "The amount of episodes across the US is proportional to the population of those areas, except of course for the jail exception."

Sherlock abruptly got up from his chair, and pointed to one of the readouts on the wall. "If you cross-reference your list of relative strengths of the people who have had psychic powers and the locations of the events-" He continued working for a moment, before turning back to the group dramatically and saying, "You uncover a second pattern. Towards the East Coast, and the North and South farther west, the events tend to be people with stronger psychic powers. As you get father west, the events are more balanced, suggesting that there are more events overall, but they're being covered up somehow."  
"How do you cover up people having psychic fits?" Gordon asked. "People dropping all over the place-"  
"Because you missed something." Eleven said, spinning back around. "Your map just shows people who are _currently_ having psychic events. If you show people who have _come out_ of psychic events, then the pattern becomes an arrow moving across the United States."  
"And it's pointing directly at San Francisco." Sherlock said. "If this is some kind of-" His voice dripped with sarcasm as he said the next two words; "'demonic invasion', then that's probably the focal point."  
"I get what you're saying." Fury said. "You think that it's going to come down to the wire, and I'm going to order my men to nuke San Francisco in order to save the US. That's a decision I'm willing to make."  
"That's not the problem." Sherlock said. "I'm just worry you'd push that button pre-maturely. Waste lives needlessly."  
"Well, tough." Fury said. "I prefer to do jobs myself instead of letting you heroes handle it."  
Both Doctors walked over to Fury and stared at him.

"What are you two doing?" Fury asked.

"That's not right." Four said, getting out his Sonic.

"That's not the Nick Fury I know," Eleven said, getting out his Sonic.  
Four glared at the nonlethal device. "What kind of a screwdriver is that?"  
"A good kind!" Eleven said.

"You look like a little kid with a Nerf gun waving that around!" Four said.  
"And you look like a pop star swinging a microphone around when you use that one!" Eleven said, as they both buzzed Fury.

"If we could focus," Dean said wearily.

"What the hell are you two buzzing me for?" Fury asked.

"Because the Fury we know wouldn't make this decision," Eleven said, looking at his screwdriver.

"The Fury we know would rather have heroes handle it than go in all guns a-blazing." Four said.

"Well, that Fury must be some kind of idealistic fool." Fury said.

Eleven looked at Four nervously. "Doctor…would you mind stepping out for a moment."  
Four looked at him curiously.

"I need to tell the director something." Eleven said. "And if I told you, it'd interfere with the first law of time."  
"Yes." Four said seriously. "Of course." He left the room.

Eleven looked Fury in the eye. "Nick, I made that decision once."  
"You nuked a city rather than let the aliens have it?" He said.  
"I nuked an entire planet to prevent its government from destroying time itself." Eleven said softly.

A resounding silence followed these words; Sam and Dean exchanged glances, both trying to wonder what the Doctor had gone through. Sherlock's thoughts where more along the lines of _I thought as much._

"Than without you, we wouldn't be here today." Fury said. "I thank you for your service, Doctor."  
"Do you know what that's turned me into, Fury?" Eleven said. "I've been torn between feeling sorry for myself and desperately trying to do everything I can to make amends for every innocent life I took. You don't move on from that. You tell yourself that you can, you tell yourself everything will get better, but you can't live with yourself."  
"What exactly are you getting at, Doctor?"  
"If you do this, then you'll start down a path where we'll have to stop you." The Doctor said. "And trust me. You don't want to go there." He got up irritably. "I'm going to go pull the files on what I think we're fighting. I might be wrong, but it's the only lead we have." He got up and left from the room.

"And we better get you lot up to speed on how these consoles work." Kate said.

"It's obvious." Sherlock said. "This panel distinguishes between what area of the world is shown, and this control..."

* * *

Hours later, Eleven and Sherlock both sat at the bedside of the Time Lord's long-haired companion, and chatting quietly.

"There are just too many things that don't make sense for there to not be some force behind this Universe existing." The Doctor said. "For starters, all the people from my Universe shouldn't be here, since they weren't in the Time War. I think someone's trying to bait me, particularly after I heard past me's story with Elsa."

"Who is this...Elsa?" Sherlock asked. "You weren't very specific about it."

"An old friend." Eleven said, "A very old friend, actually, and a queen. But she's a little sensitive, thus how she can be manipulated. She shouldn't even be in this era, she should have come out in medieval times. Even if she had come out in modern times somehow, her life should have followed a path parallel to her normal one and she should be good by now."

"Perhaps we should discover everything we can about this Universe before we proceed." Sherlock said, after a pause.

"You can," The Doctor said, "Whoever or whatever is behind this has interfered with my head. Facts about this world just slip away when I need them, and my Time Lord senses are being limited. My telepathy isn't as strong as it should be, and I can't see fixed and flux points in time like I normally can."

"So we're looking at someone who has intimate knowledge of your race, or at least went through this Time War that you speak of." Sherlock deduced. "Perhaps one of the heroes that the Time Lords used."

"It's…possible." The Doctor admitted, "But none of you should remember the war. You don't."

Sherlock pondered this for a moment. Then he muttered, "Remarkable."

"What is?" Eleven asked.

"We are." Sherlock said, looking him squarely in the eye. "We both have such incredible egos, and yet we're not fighting for dominance, we're working together."

"Oh, trust me, that wasn't how it was when we first met." Eleven said. "It should be a couple months for you- well, it was in the normal timeline. Who knows what will happen in here..."

Four walked in.

"Can I have a word with me?" He asked.

Sherlock looked surprised, then nodded. "Of course."

Eleven watched as Sherlock and Four sat down in the seat that had been freshly vacated.

"Is this our future now?" Four asked with a grin. "Do we get to be childish forever?"

Eleven pondered him grimly for a moment.

"Are you all right?" Four asked him seriously.

"Yeah, you're fine." Eleven responded. "And we're not all young, it's just that I felt particularly depressed when I regenerated last, so I became someone who could handle it."

"So, we both felt the same way when we regenerated."

Eleven nodded, remembering the fear and self-doubt that had preceded his regeneration from Three to Four.

The two sat in silence for a moment, Eleven watching his companion sleep and Four absentmindedly twirling his yo-yo.

Then, Four retracted his yo-yo. For a moment, he stared at it contemplatively, then he looked at his future self, and uttered five simple words.

"Should I have done it?"

Eleven knew immediately what his past self was talking about, but not how to respond.

Early in the Fourth Doctor's life, the Time Lords, worried about the growing power of the Daleks, but held back by their non-interference policy, sent the Doctor to the genesis of the Daleks to avert their creation. At a critical moment in this mission, the Doctor hesitated, his moral code forbidding him from exterminating any sentient life, even the Daleks. In the end, all he was able to do as delay the Daleks progress by about a thousand years. When the little balls of hate found out what the Doctor had done, they declared war on the Time Lords.

The most terrible war in all of history.

A Time War.

The Last Great Time War.

The Doctor started the war that claimed the lives of Susan and Romana and the rest of his race, in addition to countless other worlds.

"We wouldn't be talking if you hadn't." Eleven said. "We wouldn't have been able to live with ourselves, and it would have made us a very different person. That you hesitated at all makes you very different from Davros and his creation, and that makes us the Doctor."

"But was it worth it?" Four asked. "Does the good the Daleks create in others inadvertently, the friendships and the alliances, really outweigh all of the evil?"

These words hit Eleven hard. _The good the Daleks create in others… _All they created in him was rage and darkness.

"What I wondered is what else we could have done." Eleven said, nervously wringing his hands. "Without sacrificing everything we stand for as the Doctor, you know, leading a fleet of Battle TARDISes into Skaro and laying waste to Davros. I think that even if we hadn't hesitated, the Daleks would have survived in some way. We did all we could have. Everyone else would say that we did all we could."  
"I'm not asking everyone else." Four pointed out. "I'm asking the Doctor."

"It's just, the Daleks took nearly everything from me." Eleven said darkly. "I can't tell you, well, I suppose I can. I don't remember any of this, you know."

"Do we ever remember meeting ourselves?" Four replied.

"My predecessor remembered meeting your successor." Eleven said, taking a moment to talk slowly to make sure he said all of his words properly. "I think - I think that our brains are open to the time stream somehow, whether it's through a telepathic connection to the TARDIS or through our Time Lord abilities. When we enter into a new Universe, our brains sync up. When we leave, our brain de-syncs, and we lose our memories of that world."

"Well, I suppose that could be true." Four said. "It wouldn't apply to parallel universes because of how similar the timestreams are."  
"And we'd remember the memories from our Universe because that's our original Universe, if I remember my Quantum Physics class correctly. I'm just not sure about this Universe-if the TARDIS can run here, then maybe we'll remember what happens here. I don't know."  
"And then there's the question of how we're even here." The Fourth Doctor said. "The Laws of time should prevent this."  
"I don't know." Eleven said. "We need to figure this out, take it slow."  
"Moment." The companion murmured.

Eleven leaned in close to her; Four looked at his future self curiously.

"It is not the moment," She murmured, her hand reaching off of the bedside, and grabbing the edge of Four's scarf. "Last of the Time Lords."

"What?" Four asked, looking at Eleven.

Eleven's face fell.

"Is that what happened because of what I did?" Four asked.

"I didn't say-"  
"Your silence speaks volumes." Four said, abruptly getting up and walking off. Eleven watched him go, uncertain of what to do.

"Great." He said, crossing his arms and looking down at his companion.

"Nice going, Doctor. Your timeline is going to be so contaminated now."

* * *

Four wished he had his TARDIS. He couldn't explore Eleven's without inevitably running into more spoilers, and he wanted nothing more than to hop on Mario Bros. and forget what he just learned.

But he couldn't forget those words.

_Last of the time lords._

They all were dead now, all because of him. Susan, his family, that time Lord that helped him regenerate, all of them…

He felt something very odd, like a sort of stinging in the eyes. After he rubbed them, he realized what it was, sleepiness. Time Lords didn't need to sleep, not really, they just sort of meditated in order to rest-but he knew what it was because of all the human literature he had read.

The Doctor felt his knees buckle as he struggled to hold himself up on the wall, before his head hit the ground.

Everything descended into darkness.

_The Doctor was standing in a big, empty space. Around him where his friends-Sarah Jane, Leela, the Brigadier, Mike Yates, Benton, Harry Sullivan, Jo Grant, Liz Shaw, Susan, Ian, and Barbara…_

_And directly across from them was every monster the Doctor had ever fought. Daleks, Cybermen, Zygons, Sontarans, Silurians, Deamons, Axos, Yetis, Autons, and countless more._

_And directly in-front of the Doctor was an ornate sword, which was embedded in a large stone in the ground. The blade itself looked fine enough, but it was the hilt that unnerved the Doctor, as it was in the shape of a large, menacing snake._

_The Doctor knew that this sword could smite his enemies. He __approached it, but then hesitated._

Never cruel or cowardly,_ he thought. _Never give up, never give in.

_"Doctor!" The Time Lord didn't know which of his friends had said it, but the army of enemies was on the move, coming towards his friends. Lasers began to fire, and the Doctor watched as his friends, one by one, began to fall._

_"No!" The Doctor said, tears in his eyes, reaching for the sword. "I won't let anyone else die because of me!"  
The snake abruptly sprang to life and embedded itself into the Doctor's wrist._

In the real world, the Doctor's eyes snapped open, and he sat up.

* * *

Back in the conference room, Sherlock found Sam and Dean still in the meeting room, looking over charts.

"I doubt you'll get very far without the Doctor." He said, taking a seat at the table. "He seems to know what it is we're up against."  
"We're not working on the current case." Dean said. "We're working on finding the children like Sam."  
"Like Sam?" Sherlock said, frowning. "I'm afraid I am quite unaware of what it is you are talking about."  
Sam and Dean glanced at each other. Sam nodded.

"See, Sam has visions." Dean said. "He can see things before they happen."  
"And we found lots of other kids with similar powers as me," Sam said. "As it turns out, their mothers were also killed when they also were six months old, like mine was. But not everyone follows this pattern, so we're searching for a different one."  
"The demon's got some kind of plan for them," Dean said, "Something that involves the end of the world."  
"I wouldn't worry about it too much." Sherlock said. "Our friend in Gotham city had his mother murdered by a demon, remember?"  
"That's just the problem." Dean said. "Apparently, these kids go psycho towards the end."

Sherlock sat there for a moment, watching as the brothers worked.

"How do you separate fact from fiction?" He asked.

"It depends on what evidence we find." Dean said. "If we dig up a case that makes it obvious that a monster's real, then we go from there. If not, then we assume that it's myth."  
"Most myths have their basis in some kind of fact." Sam said. "But they're often idealized by time."  
"And then of course Hollywood completely screws with people's perception of things." Sam said.  
Sherlock stared at the two of them for a moment.

"What is it?" Sam asked.

"You two have grown to be quite curious people." Sherlock said. "Dean, you're a lot like the Doctor."  
Dean snorted. "You're comparing me to a lunatic in a scarf?"  
"You do realize why they act the way they do, don't you?" Sherlock said. "It's the same reason you drink and flirt and listen to all of your rock music." He leaned in. "It's because of what you've seen."  
Dean's eyebrows raised. What Sherlock said made sense. He had been trying to keep the darkness from driving him mad by partying.

"And as for Sam," Sherlock said, looking at the younger Winchester, "You must use some different method from going insane. Religion, perhaps-"  
Suddenly, the door to the room slammed shut, and all three of them jumped.

"What the-?" Dean said.  
"Someone must have locked the door from the outside." Sherlock said. "But who-?"  
A deep, rich laugh filled the room.

"Precisely." Four's voice echoed over the intercom.

Meanwhile, Eleven stared at the wall, admiring his handiwork. The words _Hello Sweetie_ where engraved into it.

He jumped as the door slammed behind him.

"What?" Eleven said, running towards the door and sonicking it.

"It's deadlocked, Doctor." Four's voice said, as Eleven's face darkened, and he stepped away from the door. "You can't get out of here, not unless you've made some serious improvements to your little buzz-wand."  
"I should have warned him, shouldn't I?" Eleven said in a soft and dangerous. "Warned him to beware of you. But you're dead. I killed you all!"

Four's laugh sounded again, feeling hollow without it's usual warmth. "It'll take more than a good man to kill us. It's too late, Doctor. I can just kill your body and you will have never defeated us. History will be re-written."  
"You know that that would destroy time itself!" Eleven said desperately. "You have to leave him before he regenerates to get rid of you, otherwise-  
"I have complete control over his body." Four's voice replied. "The Doctor is now under the complete control of the Mara."


	5. Chapter 5

Yeah! I finally updated! insert Gif of Eleven doing the drunk giraffe here

* * *

Eleven wrestled with the controls of the TARDIS. The Type 40 groaned as he worked; it would start up for a moment before the engine trailed off.

"He's locked the controls with his Sonic," He muttered darkly. "I might be able to re-activate them, but if he can get to his TARDIS before I can, then he might be able to wreak havoc on mine because the TARDIS exists across all points in time…" He pulled down a lever, and frowned. "I don't have a companion with me right now, do I? Force of habit, I guess." He pulled a few more levers, typed on his typewriter, and dinged a bell. "Come on now, old girl. He's just a silly old man with a ridiculously long piece of fabric and a bag of candy. How hard could this possibly be?"

* * *

Elsewhere, a singular motorcycle ridden by two people pulled into an airport. Its two riders hastily got off and raced through the airport.

Jo and Anna had had a great deal of difficulty tracking down Elsa, as was to be expected. In the end, it was only due to a lucky interception of Elsa's radio transmitter that enabled them to determine that she was going to attempt to hijack one of the planes.

"How are we going to get in?" Jo asked. "Someone will see us. Do you want me to distract them?"

Anna smirked at her, and the two ran around the building.

The redhead produced a small, black gun-like object from her bags, and aimed it at the top of the building, and fired it. A grappling hook flew through the air and embedded itself on the edge of the rooftop.

"Give me a minute," Anna said, pressing a button. The rope retracted, and she shot up the building, deftly flipping onto the rooftop when she reached that far, before tossing the gun back down and running across the roof.

Anna quickly scanned the planes, uncertain of what exactly she was supposed to be looking for. Jo joined her shortly.

"Back there," Jo said, pointing towards a smaller plane towards the back of the runway. "I'm guessing that would be the one."

"You go first," Anna said, handing her the grapple gun, "See if she's on another plane."

Jo repelled down the side of the building, then sent the gun back up. Anna repelled down after her, and then dove to the shadows of a loading plane, careful to avoid detection. She watched as a car drove past, looking around cautiously, before pulling up her hood-so that her red hair wouldn't shine like a beacon across the runway. She heard a shout, and looked towards her destination to see that a few of the guards were half-encased in ice. She started to sprint.

Inside of the plane, Elsa stood behind the pilot and the copilot, both of whom she had threatened with her powers. The plane began to start, and slowly rolled across the runway.

Abruptly, a soft THUNK sounded on the door. Elsa turned around, curious, but she must have assumed that it was a rock, for she turned back fairly quickly.

Like an axe into a tree, a short, glowing, greenish-gold blade sliced through the edges of the door, and began sawing through the lock.

"Oh, come _on." _Elsa said, sounding more distressed than angry. "She didn't-"

Anna opened up the door. With a somewhat-disgusted expression on her face that clearly stated that she really didn't want to do what she was about to do, leaned forwards, and pulled Anna in, before freezing the door behind her.

"I told you to stay." Elsa said. "You shouldn't even be here."

"You took care of me when we left Arendelle." Anna said. "Maybe it's my turn to take care of you."

"I could hurt you-"

"I don't care about that-"

"You could be a normal person for once-"

"I couldn't be normal, after everything we've been through."

"Look, this is big." Elsa said. "And dangerous. You need to stay out of it for your own sake."

"But what about your sake?" Anna said. "Who's gonna take care of you if I don't?"

Elsa sighed in an exasperated tone. She looked away for a moment, and in that moment, Anna saw it-a small, golden ring, glistening on a chain made out of ice. The ring seemed to draw her eyes to it, but it also seemed to be glowing with some kind of malicious intent.

Suddenly, desire to remove this ring filled within her, but she quickly ignored that desire. Unfortunately, while she was distracted, and Elsa sent a blast of ice at her, pushing her sister up against the seats, and froze her to the wall.

"It's too dangerous." Elsa said.

Anna's eyes widened. "Elsa, you have to let me go."

"I have to do this." Elsa said, turning her back on her sister. "You can't help-"

"No, you don't understand," Anna's voice filled with fear. "Because there's something I haven't told you. I have a bit of a secret-"

With a loud ripping noise, a crimson shadow came out of Anna's backpack, and hovered above Anna's head for a few moments like a gigantic crimson bird of prey, before sending a burst of orange-yellow flames at the ice encasing Anna. It quickly melted; the shadow then looked up at Elsa.

"No, Emmet." Anna said sweetly, stroking the small dragon's nose. Considering that the dragon had been stuffed into Anna's backpack this whole time, the dragon was quite large; Elsa estimated it to be well over a yard from wingtip to wingtip, and somewhat larger from the tip of his tail to the tip of his small, narrow head, which was at the end of a long, skinny neck. Every scale on his body glistened like fire; his emerald eyes shone across at Elsa like the muzzle of a gun, glaring at her for freezing his mistress.

"Where on Earth did you find a dragon?" Elsa asked, bewildered.

"I was bored, so I was wandering." Anna said. "And there was some kind of explosion, and then there was this giant ruby-looking thing lying on the ground and so I picked it up, thinking that I could sell it, but then it hatched. Now do you see why I had to follow you? If people won't accept you, then how do you think they feel about a dragon?"

"Anna-" Elsa said softly, "Just give me twenty-four hours. I'll have everything taken care of by then. After that, we can go back to Arendelle."

"How can you promise that?" Anna asked. "You can't defeat an entire army on your own-"

"Um-" The pilot said nervously, raising his hand.

"Yes?" Elsa asked, twirling around.

"We've reached the altitude you wanted, miss." The pilot said.

"Stay here," Elsa said, casting Anna a pleading look. "Please." She then ran towards the door, blasting it off, then she fell off, quickly spinning around a freezing the doorframe so that all of the air wasn't sucked out of the plane.

"Emmet!" Anna said, pointing at the ice, and Emmet spewed a sphere of flame.

* * *

Below the plane, Sherlock and Dean raced down another ubiquitous shiny metal hallway, Dean with a handgun in hand, Sherlock with a knife borrowed from the hunter.

They reached a crossway, and abruptly four heavy steel doors thundered into place, sealing their path.

"Great." Dean barked, "We're trapped!"

"Are we?" Sherlock said, spinning around, and beginning to talk at an incredibly rapid pace, "Nick Furry had some serious trust issues. He would have some kind of second entrance in case the bridge got taken over, a sort of key under the rock, if you will. The obvious answer would be a voice code or his eye print, but what if there was an emergency, like now? Furry would want to have a second code, a code accessible by anyone. That rules out it being a code word, because it's very hard for a computer to recognize dozens of different voices, the technology is too imprecise. And it would also have to be something nearly imperceptible to detection, something very subtle, such as-"

He ran to the door, put his ear next to it, and knocked.

"Um…" Dean said, bewildered, "are you OK?"

"There's a motion sensor in here." Sherlock said, continuing as if Dean hadn't said anything. "That would imply that you have to knock in a particular sequence in order to get the door to open."

"So we need a code word that we can transmit in Morse code." Dean inferred. "But that could be anything."

"Not necessarily." Sherlock said. "But you do appreciate the scope of the problem. It would be something that only Furry and his agents would know, some great secret. That leaves us with a few possibilities. Taking into account only the secrets that the government actually knows, and which ones the agents would need to know-that certainly narrows it down. We'll have to eliminate answers until we figure it out."

He started to knock.

Dean stared at him, not quite certain what to make of him, weather he was a genius or just some psycho, like the Doctors. He rolled his eyes in frustration and pulled out his cell phone, and gave a disgusted scoff when he saw that he had no signal.

* * *

Meanwhile in the TARDIS, the Doctor paused in the middle of working the TARDIS console.

"No." He said, staring gravely into the control column. "It can't be here," He stumbled, clutching his temples, as a psychic headache came over him. He shook his head; he didn't have time to be incapacitated.

His gaze happened to fall on the scanner, which showed on its screen that Sam was at the door, trying to find a way in.

The Doctor grabbed the telephone, put it to his ear, and called the younger Winchester, using the TARDIS' phone to overcome the lack of signal. "Sam, would you please get out of the way of the door? And, like, duck and cover around the corner, because I have no idea how this is going to work."

Sam mutely obeyed, as the Doctor raced around the console, throwing switches and jamming buttons and making shiny things go DING.

"All right," He said, grabbing the big lever and shouting, with a massive grin on his face, "GERONIMO!" as he pulled it. The TARDIS lifted up off the ground, before turning to be parallel to the ground and ramming at the door like a missile. The door shattered outwards, and the TARDIS embedded itself, like an arrow, in the opposite wall.

After a moment, Sam came around the corner, approaching the TARDIS. "Doctor?"

The doors of the TARDIS opened, and the disheveled Time Lord face planted on the ground.

"Remind me to never do that one again," The Doctor said, standing up, and snapping his fingers so that the doors closed. He stroked the TARDIS, and said, "Sorry, old girl, take a nice long rest."

"Doctor?" Sam said. "We need to get to the bridge. That thing has taken control of you."

"Right!" The Doctor said, spinning on his heel to face Sam. "I need a bit of information from you. Exorcisms work on all demons, right?"

"Yeah, as far as I know," Sam said, "But there's always some exception or other-"

"Well, it's the best plan we got." The Doctor said, pulling his DS out of his pocket. "I've got a plan that's really clever if it works. Listen to me…"

* * *

The Mara-possessed Fourth Doctor gaped in astonishment as he searched through the pockets of the Time Lord.

"How much stuff does this guy carry around with him?" He asked, examining a cricket ball.

"You tell us." Nick Furry said. He was standing on a circular dais, with holographic displays encircling him. He was overlooking rows of computer monitors, witch filled a pit below him, with a person working at each computer. Beyond, a large window showcasing the view outside-currently, lots of clouds.

"Half of this stuff doesn't even serve any purpose." The Doctor said, pulling a crimson Yo-yo out of his pocket and wrapping it around his finger. He watched as the toy bobbed up and down, fascinated, although he failed a number of times and had to wind the yo-yo back up again.

He was at this for a few minutes before there was a loud shatter that cracked through the silence, and one of the glass panes exploded open. A figure fell into the room; it sent a blast of ice onto the floor, witch materialized into a ramp, that sent the figure flying back upwards at the celling. The figure created another ramp on the celling, witch threw it back towards the floor of the room. It then created a long, more gradually sloped ramp with a snowbank at the end, where it came to a halt.

Elsa got out of the snow, and snapped her fingers. The ice and snow melted into bluish flakes.

"Nice of you to drop in." The Doctor said.

Elsa raised her hands cautiously.

"We are Mara, girl." Nick said, rolling up his sleeve and showing the mark on his wrist. "And you're right on schedule."

"We're proceeding as planned?" Elsa said.

"Of course." Furry said.

There was silence for a moment. Then there was a knock on the door, and it hissed open. Sherlock and Dean entered into the room, guns in hand.

Nick immediately pulled out his gun, and the Doctor reached into his pockets, searching for a moment. By the time he had pulled out his Sonic Screwdriver, a dozen of the terminal men had come up onto the platform and where pointing their guns at the two of them.

"What the hell are you supposed to do with this thing anyway?" The Doctor said, waving it around.

"Put your hands in the air!" Furry said.

"I'm pretty sure that's not how you do it." The Doctor said, removing the head of the screwdriver and examining it.

Sherlock and Dean both slowly sat their guns on the floor.

"I do have something of interest to show you." Sherlock said, reaching into his coat pocket and pulling out the psychic paper and holding it up to the assembled group. They all flinched, and hissed; Four actually stepped backwards and tripped over his scarf.

"Damn." Dean said. "What is that stuff?"

"Psychic paper." Sherlock said. "Remember how in the Doctor's file he said they were weak to images of themselves? I thought a picture of them would work as well as a reflection."

"A neat trick, nothing more." Furry said, "Now drop it."

Dean frowned. "But-but I thought that sort of thing would paralyze you."

"I do believe it's got something to do with this Universe." Four said, "But it's too timey-whimey for me to understand."

Those words made Sherlock frown. Timey-what?

"What are we supposed to do with them?" Furry asked. "We could possess them if we could just unlock the darkness in their hearts."

"It doesn't sound like we'll be able to do that without knowing anything about them." Elsa said.

Sherlock and Dean glanced at each other. Neither of them thought that they were a good man, so they both assumed that the Mara would be able to capture them without any problems.

"If you do have the memories of the Doctor," Sherlock said, "Than you would know that I wouldn't come in here without a plan."  
Furry glanced at Four.

"There is a certain logic to what he is saying." He admitted.

"I have considered the prospects of both sides," Sherlock said, "And I have no desire to be on the losing side. I wish to join you."

"We don't have room for humans." Furry said.  
"We can use this one." Four said. "He is among the smartest of this era."  
"Very well." Furry said. "But what of the boy?"  
"I say we have Elsa freeze him." Four said.

Elsa stepped forwards.  
"Right." Dean said. "There are a lot of ways I might die, but I am definitely _not _going to get frozen to death by some freaky ice chic!"

He hurled a knife at Elsa; Elsa froze it in mid-air, but Dean had already raced around the corner.

"Freeze the doorway." Furry said. "Lock him out."  
Elsa pointed her hand at the doorway; within a few minutes, the doorway was frozen solid.

"Excellent." Furry said. "Our plans can proceed as scheduled."

"Right." Eleven said, looking at one of the closed doors blocking their way to the bridge, brandishing his Sonic all over the door. "Deadlock seal. The Sonic won't be much help here."  
"You don't know of any other ways to teleport us?" Sam asked.

"I was hoping you'd be able to use your psychic powers to open the door." Eleven said. "My next suggestion would be to use the Impala to ram through the door."  
"The Impala?" Sam said. "Dean would kill you if you wrecked his car."  
"Right." Eleven said. "We haven't modified it yet. I do have an idea how to get through the door though."  
"How?" Sam asked.

"We link minds." Eleven said. "Between the two of us, there should be enough psychic potential to open the door."  
"That's risky." Sam said. "I've been denying my psychic potential, because I don't know what it could do."  
"Well, I do." Eleven said. "Don't worry, it won't have any side effects. Now then, try to clear your thoughts, because I've got a rather lot going on in my head and I'm not good at clearing mine."  
Sam nodded and closed his eyes. Eleven put his hands to Sam's temples.

Sam gasped; he had an immediate sense of leaving his body. A series of images flitted through his head; one of a crying, lonely boy in a shack; one of an old man making the choice to cut himself off from his granddaughter; one of a distinctly odd-looking man in a suit being told that his two best friends would never remember him; another of a distinctive-looking different old man, quietly slipping out from a wedding, aware that he would barely see the bride again; another of Four, holding a pair of wires and staring at them, asking if he had that right; another of a man with a tan suit and a stick of celery on his lapel, staring dumbly at a view screen displaying an exploded ship, where a kid had just sacrificed himself to defeat emotionless robots; another of a man wearing an utterly ridiculous multicolored suit, watching as a young girl allowed an alien to take control of his body, another of a man in a Victorian suit watching from afar as fleets of Dalek ships fought his own people, trying not to interfere; and then he was a different man who interfered everywhere he could; he watched as worlds burned that he had been helpless to save. He sat inside of a restaurant, sitting across from a plump middle-aged woman whom he had become executioner to; he was being told he had fashioned all of his friends into weapons while the Earth was overrun with pure evil, witch swarmed around him; he stood in front of a woman tucked inside of an astronaut's suit, preparing to die. He gasped; suddenly he was back in his own body, and all of the doors in front of them were open.

"We're good." Eleven said.

"Was that you?" Sam asked. "From your mind?"

"Probably." Eleven said, looking at Sam. "How much did you see?"  
"Loads." Sam frowned. "How do you sleep at night?"

"That's why I don't travel alone anymore." Eleven said. "Friends are important, Sam, remem-" Suddenly, the ship lurched to one side. Warning lights started to flare. The two of them were thrown against the wall, struggling to stay on their feet.

"Well, it looks like our plan worked." Eleven said. "I'm probably having loads of fun on the bridge right now."

* * *

"How do you ever manage to fly a ship like this?" Four asked, standing in front of a smashed console. "So many buttons, how do you ever keep them all straight?"

"What the hell are you doing?" Furry asked.

"Crashing your ship?" Four said. "It's a specialty of ours."  
"Ours?" Furry asked.

"The Doctor should give the speech." Sherlock said, pressing buttons and throwing switches on another console. "My victory speeches are more about telling you information you missed, and not just yelling at you for being stupid."

"You're very trusting of your enemies," Four pointed out.  
"But you're one of us!" Furry said.

Four grinned, and leapt into the pit, and ran past dozens of consoles, throwing switches and levers. One of the consoles turned onto a game of Galaga. He stood between two consoles, playing Galaga and working the controls, before he heard gunshots behind him; he dropped, and Sherlock dove behind a console as he fell under fire.

Four pulled his own Nintendo DS out of his jacket, and opened it. A text-to-speech program was activated, and was looping an exorcism that had been sent to it from his future self. He Sonicked the DS, scanning the exorcism into the screwdriver. He moved to sonic the console, but then a blizzard of ice came down upon him, and he dove out of the way. Elsa landed on the ground in front of him, flurries dancing around her hands. Four happened to see the ring around her neck; he Sonicked as Elsa fired ice at him; he had to leap backwards as icy spikes materialized in front of him, but the dead was done; the golden ring fell from around Elsa's neck, clattering on the floor.

For a moment, Elsa looked down at it; she moved to pick it up, but Four grabbed a leaver, and the ship shook, and the ring rolled down the way towards Four. He used his scarf to grab the ring and bring it to him; then he snatched it up and shoved it into his coat.

"You'll thank me later," Four said, throwing another switch, causing the deck to sway again. Elsa fired more ice at him, and he dodged; the ice smashed through the console.

The ship dipped to the side, more than it ever had previously; Four unwound his scarf and tossed it around a console, and hung as the ship turned sharply upwards, going vertical. Elsa froze herself a platform, and fired ice down at Four; the Time Lord kicked off the console underneath him, causing the ice to miss. He pulled out his Sonic, buzzing Elsa's platform; it shattered, and she started to fall.

Suddenly, a loud lurching, groaning noise echoed through the room as Elsa fell past Four. She frowned; she had landed on some kind of translucent surface that was slowly coming into focus. Four stood up, putting his scarf back on, as Eleven's TARDIS interior appeared around him.

Four raced to the console, and threw a switch. Sherlock peered around the console at him

"Why didn't you summon your ship earlier?" Sherlock asked. "It would have been convenient."

"You could have pulled us all out of there a lot sooner." Dean added.  
"I didn't summon it." Four said.  
"Then it's a good thing you've got me."  
Eleven's companion form the hospital earlier walked up to the console; she was wearing a red fez, which must have been bigger on the inside, because all of her hair was apparently in a bun inside of it.

Dean whistled.

"And who are you supposed to be?" Sherlock asked.

"Luna Lovegood." She said, throwing another switch on the TARDIS. "Your scarf's far too short, you know. You won't be able to keep out much of a chill with it."

"And I suppose I'm supposed to have a ridiculous one like his, then?" Sherlock asked.  
"There's no point in trying to be stylish and falling short because of nay-sayers, you know." Four said.

Elsa stood up, and spun around.

"Don't even bother trying to freeze us." Four said, as Elsa gestured, but her ice failed. "I've activated Temporal Grace. No harm can come to us in here."

"Your files at UNIT said that that was a clever lie." Sherlock said.

"Well, sometimes I like my enemies to think I'm bluffing when I'm not." Four said. "Confusion and deceit are much better weapons than guns, you know."

Elsa ran to the doors.

"I'd be very careful about that if I where you-"Four said, but then Elsa threw open the doors.

Outside, the blackness of space, peppered with countless twinkling stars. Her eyes grew wide as she stared at a nebula in the distance.

"You're in space." Four said, walking towards her. "This is the TARDIS. It's a time machine. And I am the Doctor."

* * *

I am so, so sorry about how long it took me to update, I had to change the ending multiple times before I was satisfied.

But as a compensation I do have another Fic I'm working on, Master of the Games, which is a Hunger Games/Doctor Who/future Superheroes story if you want to go check that one out. The idea is that it's taking place in the same Universe as this fic with everyone in the same place, just with other characters and another Doctor.

Also, for the 1% of you who probably care, I used the term "Nintendo DS" as generic; I assume that the Doctor has a super high-tech version, but the game I had in mind was _Tomodachi Life._

Like this story? Hated this story? Think this story should involve the flying monkeys from _Wizard of OZ _and feature Steven Moffat as the main villain? Then leave me a review and tell me so, because otherwise I won't know what to do differently.


End file.
